


Idiot

by Wulferious



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Christmas Fanfic, F/M, Fluff, Pilot!Reader, Post Force Awakens, pre The Last Jedi, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-19 00:18:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13111686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wulferious/pseuds/Wulferious
Summary: One pilot can't live without the other. One pilot keeps attempting to sacrifice themselves for the other. Crashes, arguments, and Winter Solstice ensue. Prompt used: A scarf, a present wrapped very poorly, a kiss.





	Idiot

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas and happy holidays to everyone! This is my gift to you! Be safe and eat well!

Waking from a dream was always difficult for you. Your dreams always depicted a life that was better than what you had now. Not that your current life was _terrible_ , but fighting an endless war on the losing side wasn’t what you called ideal. Your dream, cheesy and what you might say was ‘under budget’ for a dream was what you would call ‘grasping at straws.’ A beautiful but simple meadow, music playing softly from somewhere else in the distance, you in a dress you’d never thought you’d ever see yourself in and… _him_. 

You danced through the grass and the flowers, his hand on your hip, firm but loving. The smile on his face, nervous but kind. His presence unreal but welcomed. The love that surged through his gaze calming. You would never believe this was actually happening, you would need to pinch yourself to make sure-

“(Y/N)!” 

You awoke with a start, a rapidly beating heart, flushed cheeks and sharp pain surging through your body. There is nothing sweeter in this sad, miserable, war-torn world than someone you love calling your name, but… the tone in which your name was spoken felt bitter and worried. The room around you was white and well lit; the atmosphere alone indicated that you were in the medibay _again_ and in _very big trouble_. You looked up at the culprit of your awakening, spotting _him._

“Poe…”

“Cut the crap, (Y/N),” Poe was _angry_. That was the first thought that surged through your brain once his expression and tone of voice wriggled its way into your vision and your ears. “Why would you risk yourself like that?! Again?!” 

“I…”

His hands planted themselves on his hips. His brow was furrowed and his eyes channelled the fury of a thousand suns. “You had better not try and work up some excuse! What you did out there was _stupid, irrational_ , and not to mention _dangerous_!”

“Poe,” you squint in pain as a stabbing pain shoots through your leg. You knew what you did and you weren’t about to regret it. “I did it to save you!” 

“At the cost of your own life?!” He yelled. “(Y/N), we’ve talked about this! I can’t have you dying in the field and especially not for me!” 

“Why not for you?!” You argued back. “Why not die for the person I’ve looked up to since I was a little kid? Why not die for the person I grew up with, admired, learned from and fought for?!” You took in a deep breath, much more defiant than you’d ever thought you’d be towards him.

“Maker, you’re such an _idiot_!” 

The word echoed in your head and you couldn’t think of anything else to say. ‘Idiot. Idiot. _Idiot_.’ Your mouth hung open and tears pricked your eyes. You watched Poe’s expression fall. He knew what he said, but he stood his ground. “You need to rest.”

With that simple sentence, he turned to leave. He stopped at the door as a nurse approached, most likely to see what the commotion was. He quietly explained away the shouting and continued on his way. As Poe’s distinct footsteps retreated from your earshot, the nurse peeked inside and raised an eyebrow in a silent request to enter the room, her pink hair swishing as she tilted her head to the side. You smiled sadly at her and nodded, laying your head back down on the pillow beneath you. 

“Hey, (Y/N),” she sighed. “How are you feeling?”

“Not too great, but thanks for asking, Rhi.” She sat down at the edge of your bed, revealing a cup of liquid medication in her hand. She laughed at your immediate reaction of disgust.

“This will help until your next session in the Bacta tank,” she explained, barely containing her laughter, tipping the cup against your lips and giggling at your reaction to the horrible taste.

“That tasted like ass,” you complain, sticking your tongue out and shuddering.

“How would you know what ass tastes like?” She teased, running a hand gently through your hair. 

You pouted at her but felt more relaxed as she played with your hair. “What happened after I-”

“You crashed,” she interrupted. “Pretty severe, you’re lucky to be alive. You were in the Bacta tank for a week. We had to take you out for a little bit lest you turn into a raisin,” Rhiannon half-joked with a chuckle. “Two more days inside of it starting tomorrow and you should be able to move on your own. I’d say that you’ll be eligible to fly again in about three weeks.”

“I’m not sure Commander Dameron would be too pleased with me flying again.” You comment, distaste in the remembrance of your argument with your other best friend.

“Well, he’s not happy, to say the least,” Rhiannon agreed. “This is the third time you’ve done something like this, but never so much as to nearly die. (Y/N), I say as both your nurse and your best friend, you need to be more careful!” 

You rolled your eyes. “As careful as I can be running assaults on enemy ships.”

“Exactly. You’ve got a broken leg, three broken ribs, eighteen stitches in each of your arms, a black eye and one bad, _bad_ case of road rash almost everywhere else. You really could have died. Despite the fact that I think it was bad for your health for Poe to yell at you like that, he was right.”

“I hate it when you take his side,” you moan.

“I know.” Rhiannon stood, smiling mischievously. You groan as her hand leaves your scalp. “Now get some rest. I want you to be up and not grouchy for more Bacta tank tomorrow.”

“But I-”

“ _Rest_.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll rest.”

~

The next morning, you were woken up in the midst of another dream, being brought into the tank room, still under the influence of groggy exhaustion. Despite this, you were also given a heavy sedative to help you handle the Bacta, a liquid with viscosity somewhere between watery jello and thick slime, not an ideal thing to be submerged in at first. 

The liquid of the Bacta tank hit your eyes when you woke up again two days later, not so much to be painful but instead slightly awkward. The outside was blurry to you and the breathing apparatus was blocking at least half your vision. You felt much warmer than you had than the entirety of your stay on this frostbitten planet, ever so slightly thankful that Rhiannon was a stickler for old tech and refused to have you lay completely naked in one of those suits filled with artificial Bacta. 

As soon as your vision cleared the best you could, your eyes widened at the silhouette of Poe. He was staring straight at you and his expression immediately softened from being consumed by worry as soon as he noticed that your eyes were open. He looked to be holding something, but the apparatus was keeping you from seeing the entirety of his body. He pressed his right hand against the glass, his forehead soon following. You couldn’t hear him, but somehow you knew he was saying something. You, in turn, placed your hand over his before your sedation took over once more. 

~

Being ‘freed’ from the Bacta tank was one of the worst experiences you’ve ever had besides being in an X-Wing crash. Bacta was warm and comforting, like taking a bubble bath in the perfect temperature of warm water or being swaddled in a blanket that had just come out of the dryer. You could feel relaxed and at peace. It was a place where you could sleep, breathe clearly (you had to give credit to the apparatus for that one), and feel like you were getting stronger. 

Now that you were laying back down in your bed, you felt cold, stiff, and so strangely light that it felt like you would need to be tied down in order to not just float away. Slightly thankful that you could sit up now, you hunched over and attempted to hug yourself into the thin standard issue blanket to squeeze what little warmth you had left from the Bacta tank. 

The hiss of a door opening caused you to lift your head, teeth beginning to clatter as a cool breeze followed Poe into the room. You hoped to the Maker that he wasn’t as cross as last time. You’d never been able to properly handle an angry Poe, even though you’d spent the majority of your life around him.

“Ever heard of knocking?” You ask sarcastically, watching Poe as he moved toward you and knelt before you on the floor. Your bed was quite low to the ground, so Poe was about at eye-level to you, but neither of you could look each other in the eye.

“Sorry, didn’t think it through,” he apologized, his face much more relaxed than before. You were thankful that he’s calmed down, but you knew that he wouldn’t hesitate to argue with you if you tried to defend your stance on the whole ‘sacrifice myself for Poe’ situation.

“Knocking or yelling at me?” You ask, hesitant of the answer. 

“Both.” He paused. “You must be freezing.”

“Yeah, a little bit,” you shrug. “I guess it will be worth it, I can move on my own now.”

“(Y/N), you-”

“I know I was being stupid,” you sigh in dejection, cutting him off. “But I still stand by my decision to do it. I couldn’t bear to see you die.” 

“How do you think I felt after I watched you crash?” He asked, voice firm but softer than the yelling match you two had been in two days before. “I was worried, terrified that the split second of you looking at me from your ship would be the last time I saw you. I don’t think you realize how important you are.” 

You scoff. “I’m not an ace pilot like you, Poe. If I died, the Resistance could find someone to repl-”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he huffed and finally moved his gaze to meet yours. He lifted his arms and you noticed he was holding a scarf, the one that he always wore out on grounded scout missions. He beckoned you to lean forward and you did cautiously, “I’m not gonna choke you with it, silly.”

“Sorry.” You let him wind the scarf gently around your neck, the warmth of his hands helping your shivering, even if it was just a little bit. You leaned into the touch of the cloth, subtly taking in Poe’s scent.

“(Y/N), you’re my best friend,” he started, gripping your hands. “You’re important to _me_. To think that you would have died and it was my fault that I couldn’t protect you, I-”

“It wouldn’t be your fault. I’d trade my life for yours any day and I would take full credit for that,” you countered. 

“And what would I do then, huh?” He was raising his voice again, and you looked off to the side at the wall in guilt. “What I’ve been trying to say is… I… I can’t live without you.” He gently pressed a finger to your jaw, gently guiding you back to look at him again. “Don’t you understand that things like that go both ways?”

“I never thought that…” you sigh, unable to form your words. “Poe, you remember when we were kids… and I was always so afraid that you and BB-8 were going to run off and go on adventures with someone else?” 

Poe’s eyebrows furrowed. “Yeah, I remember.” 

“I always thought that one day you would do it. That one day I wouldn’t mean anything to you anymore... and... I just thought that if one of us had to die for this,” you gesture around you, “to die for the galaxy, it would be me because you could run off and go on adventures with someone else and I couldn’t.”

To your surprise, Poe pressed his forehead to yours. “You’re such an idiot,” his voice was soft, barely above a whisper. “Such an idiot,” without much time to process what he meant, he brought his lips to meet yours. His grip on your hands tightened, and the feeling of your first kiss with Poe - your first kiss ever - was better than you could ever have imagined. Soft, nervous, kind, loving.

When you separated, Poe smiled at you. “No more of this dying business, okay?” 

“Okay,” you nod slightly. 

“Promise?” 

“I promise.”

Poe stood, and you were a little nervous that he was going to leave again. To your relief, he sat next to you, reaching into the pocket of his jacket. “To that end, (Y/N), I know it’s still a few days from Solstice, but… I thought that I could give this to you early.” 

“A present?” You ask. “Poe, I don’t deserve it.” 

Poe chuckled. “I may still be mad at you, but you did save my life out there. I’d say you’re plenty worthy. Now come on, open it.” 

Poe handed you a (very) crudely wrapped gift. It looked like he had taped on at least six layers of wrapping paper, ripped at the corners from the stress of his pulling. You grinned at the little gift, unsure that you were capable of ripping apart Poe’s effort. Still, you pressed on, carefully undoing the tape and making your way through the layers of red and green paper. 

When you came to the end of the layers, you gripped the velvet box in your hands. You raised your eyebrows and looked at Poe, who was grinning in anticipation of your reaction. Lifting open the box, your eyes widened at what was inside. 

“It’s Kyber,” Poe explained. You picked up the leather string the gem was bound to, the smooth feeling of the translucent rock sliding over your palm somehow made you feel at peace; like you were back in the Bacta tank where you didn’t have to worry about anything. “I thought that it would only attune to Jedi, but Leia told me that since the Force lives inside everything, it will help keep you calm and eventually it will change colour to represent your personality.” 

“Poe…” you listened to the hum emitting from the Kyber, closing your eyes and leaning against his shoulder. “Thank you.” 

You winced when Poe placed an arm around your shoulders, but you wouldn’t let him back off. “I love you, (Y/N).”

“I love you, too.”


End file.
